Harry Winchester
by Wildz2728
Summary: What if, while visiting the United States, Petunia Dursley slapped Harry? What if Mary Winchester witnessed her doing it? Harry is adopted by John and Mary, and is raised as Dean and Sam's brother. What happens when a hunter goes to Hogwarts? One thing is for sure: nobody will be prepared.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Look at me, starting yet another fanfiction. I must be insane. Anyway, I've read various fanfictions where Harry is raised by someone besides the Dursleys, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if he was raised by the Winchesters. So, this is my take on it.**

**Prologue**

**June 5****th****, 1983**

Mary Winchester had been enjoying her day up until this point. She and John had been spending the day together, while a friend baby-sat Dean and Sam. She loved both of her boys, but it was nice to just have a break once in a while. Sam, being only a month old, always needed a lot of attention. She worried that Dean would get jealous, but he seemed to adore his younger brother. She could only hope that wouldn't change. She wanted her boys to grow up being loyal to each other.

Her good mood was ruined when she saw a certain group of people. They stood out, for several reasons. One was their appearances. The man was huge, and the woman thin. One of the children was already getting fat, and would likely end up as big as his father. The other child she likely wouldn't have noticed at all, since he seemed to be trying to keep out of the way. The only reason she noticed him was because the two adults were yelling at him.

The fact that they were yelling was another reason they stood out. Their British accents only made them stand out more. Mary tried not to be a nosey person, but it really would have been impossible not to hear them, with all the noise they were making. She was somewhat curious as to why they felt the need to yell so loudly at the little boy.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO ANYTHING ABNORMAL, FREAK!" the man was yelling. The little boy looked like he wanted to disappear. There was resignation visible in his emerald eyes, which struck Mary as odd. Children that young shouldn't look so serious. He seemed only a bit younger than Dean, and Dean was always laughing and smiling.

"I'm sorry," the child said quietly. "I didn't do anything. It just happened."

She also wasn't used to a child talking like that. This was just getting more and more odd.

"Don't lie to him, boy!" the woman snapped.

"I'm not lying," the raven-haired child insisted.

What happened next was something Mary couldn't forgive. The woman glared at the boy and slapped him. The force of the slap made his head whip to the side, and already his skin was turning red. Mary couldn't just stand idly by and let this happen, and one look at John told her he felt the same.

"Excuse me, but what makes you think it's acceptable to hurt children?" Mary demanded as she and John approached the couple. She was not one to stand by and let anyone get hurt. Even if she hadn't been raised as a hunter, she would still want to help people.

"None of your business," the man grunted.

"Your wife just slapped a little kid in public. I think that makes it anyone's business," John responded.

"The little freak deserved it," the woman sniffed. The boy in question was looking down at the ground. Up close, Mary could see that his clothes were loose on his small frame.

"What could he possibly have done to deserve that?" Mary asked coldly.

The woman seemed hesitant to talk. She was giving the boy looks of mistrust and disgust. Mary was baffled as to why someone would look at a child like that.

"He's just a no-good freak, like his parents were," the woman finally answered. So he wasn't their child. "We should've never taken him in. I don't want Dudley mixing with that kind of filth."

"If you despise him so much, then why did you take him in?" John demanded.

"We had to. He's the spawn of my dead sister," the woman responded. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have to go."

The little boy finally looked up from the ground, and his bright green eyes locked onto Mary's blue eyes, and he seemed to be pleading with her. Before she realized what she was doing, words came tumbling out of her mouth.

"You're not taking him with you," she told them.

John looked at her in surprise, and so did they. The boy seemed hopeful, yet guarded. It seemed as if he didn't think it was worth it to hope.

"What?" the man said in confusion.

"You head me," Mary answered, sounding more confident. "That child doesn't deserve to be left with you. You're clearly not fit to take care of him."

The man seemed angry at her words, but the woman just gave her a calculating look.

"Fine. You can have him. We certainly never wanted him," the woman told her.

With that said, the couple grabbed their son and hurried off, leaving behind the small, dark-haired boy.

"What did I just do?" Mary wondered out loud. She looked at her husband and sighed. "I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have done that, especially without talking to you first."

John looked down at the now apprehensive looking boy, and then looked back up at her. "Well, it was the right thing to do. But… what should we do with him?"

"I don't know. I really don't want to just toss him into the adoption or foster care system. He could end up with people as bad as his relatives," Mary said.

"You want to adopt him, don't you?" John asked her. Mary wondered how he could always tell what she was thinking.

"I don't know why, but there's just something about him that makes me want to protect him," Mary admitted. "I know we already have two sons, but would a third be so bad?"

Mary never thought she would rescue a child from his abusive relatives, but then again, she never thought she would settle down with a normal person and have children who wouldn't be raised as hunters like she was.

"Let's take him home, and just see what happens," John suggested. Mary nodded, knowing that was a good idea.

She kneeled onto the ground so she could be closer to eye level with the boy. "What's your name?" she asked in a gentle voice.

"Harry, I think," the child answered softly.

"You think?" she said.

"They call me freak or boy," Harry explained. Mary pushed down her anger at that statement. After all, there was no use being angry now. He was safe.

"Well, Harry, how would you like to come home with us? My name is Mary, and this is my husband, John," she introduced them to the boy.

Harry looked at them with wide green eyes, and then he nodded. "Okay."

Mary smiled at him, and then stood up. She took his tiny hand into hers, and noted the look of shock in his eyes. She wasn't sure if this was the smartest decision, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to regret it. After all, it was the right thing to do.

**A/N 2: I would like a beta reader for this, if anyone is interested. Preferably someone who is familiar with both fandoms. Also, should the first chapter take place when Harry is 11, or should it show snippets of his life growing up as a Winchester? **


	2. Chapter One: Growing Up as a Winchester

**Chapter One: Growing Up as a Winchester**

**1983**

Harry's new life was like something out of a dream. He had never thought that he would be rescued from his aunt and uncle, but his wish had been fulfilled. He knew that no matter how old he got, he would never forget how Mary Winchester looked on the day she had rescued him. She had reminded him of an avenging angel, with her beautiful face and her blue eyes filled with righteous fury. She and John had saved him from his miserable existence, and for that, they would always have his love and loyalty.

He still wasn't officially a Winchester. Mary and John had explained, in the simplest terms possible, that there was a process that had to happen in order for him to truly be a Winchester. Harry was alright with that. After all, he still got to live with them, and he already felt like a part of their family.

It hadn't taken him too long to settle in. Dean Winchester, Mary and John's oldest son, was so much nicer than Dudley. He had instantly taken Harry under his wing, and he seemed excited to have a new playmate. Sam, Dean's baby brother, was adorable. Harry loved the both of them, and he was proud to be their brother. He fit right in with the family, and after a couple of months, he got used to calling John and Mary "Dad" and "Mom". It was also quite nice to be called Harry, rather than "Boy" or the dreaded "Freak".

The day he first truly felt like part of their family was on his fourth birthday. He had been with the Winchesters for nearly two months, and he had been happier than he could ever remember being. Despite that, he still hadn't been sure of his place in the family.

That morning, Mary had come into his and Dean's room to wake him and Dean up. Harry had assumed it would be like any other morning, but he was soon proven wrong.

"Harry, do you know what today is?" Mary asked with a kind smile.

"…..No," he answered after thinking about it. Was he supposed to?

"It's your birthday!" Mary told him.

"Oh," Harry was at a loss as to what to say. Birthdays had never meant anything to him before. He knew that for his cousin, they meant a bunch of new toys, but for him they held little meaning.

"Wow, it's your birthday? Happy Birthday!" Dean said excitedly, looking down at Harry from the top bunk of their bunk bed.

"Thanks," Harry responded. He wasn't sure why Dean was so excited about it, or why Mary seemed to be happy about it. Nobody had ever made a big deal about his birthday before, so he was rather confused. Still, it seemed like a good thing so far.

"I made a special breakfast for your birthday, Harry," Mary said. Harry stared at her in shock. This was so weird.

"Cool! C'mon Harry, let's go eat!" Dean yelled as he swiftly climbed down from the top bunk. Harry smiled at Dean's excitement, and followed him out of the room.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," John greeted him from where he sat at the table.

"Thanks," Harry responded, somewhat shyly.

The breakfast was wonderful. There were pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, and Harry got to eat as much as he wanted. Mary even made chocolate milk for both him and Dean. By the time Harry was done eating, he felt like he never wanted to eat again.

After breakfast, Sam was dropped off with a baby-sitter, and the rest of them went to the movies. Harry had a great time being with his new family, and he was happy that they were doing all of this just for his birthday. This was what birthdays should be like, and he hoped he could have this much fun every year on his birthday.

That night, after dinner, Mary brought out a homemade cake. It was chocolate, which was Harry's favorite. John, Mary, and Dean all sang Happy Birthday to him, which made him feel both embarrassed and happy at the same time.

"Alright, Harry, now you have to blow out the candles and make a wish," John told him. Harry looked around at them, and he knew what he wanted to wish for.

'I wish I will always be with my new family', Harry thought as he blew out the candles.

The cake was the best thing Harry had ever tasted, and he knew it was made even more special by the people he was sharing it with. For the first time that he could remember, he finally understood what family was. Later, after the cake, he opened presents. He was excited by the new toys, but he knew they didn't really matter that much. What mattered was the fact that there were people who cared enough to buy them, who cared enough to make an effort to make his birthday a special day. That was why, on July 31st, he finally felt like he was part of their family.

As for his so-called freakish behavior, he made an effort to control it. He hadn't really tried that hard before, because he didn't care about pleasing his relatives. He'd felt that they would never like him anyway, so it wasn't worth the effort. However, it was a different story with the Winchesters. He loved them, and he didn't want to do anything to make them regret taking him in. He wanted to be just like them, so he tried his best to be normal. He even started trying to speak with an American accent, so he could be more like his family. Life was perfect, and he had thought that nothing could ruin his happiness. However, he thought wrong.

It had been a day like any other. Harry and Dean had spent the day playing together. Harry looked up to his older brother, and he would follow him anywhere. He was always happy to let Dean pick what game to play, and he always listened when Dean gave him his four year old words of wisdom. After all, Dean was his big brother, and that meant that Harry could trust him. He had learned very quickly that nothing was more important to the Winchesters than family. Harry gladly accepted that belief and lived by it.

"Dean, Harry, it's time for bed," their mother told them.

"But Mom, I'm not tired!" Dean protested.

"Me neither," Harry added.

Mary gave them both amused looks. "I already gave you five extra minutes to play. You know that you both need your sleep."

"No we don't," Dean muttered. Right after those words left his mouth, he yawned. "Okay, fine, we'll go to bed. But not 'cause we're tired."

"Of course, Dean," Mary responded. "Now, let's go say goodnight to your brother."

Harry and Dean scampered after their mother, and followed her into Sam's room. Little Sammy seemed content in his crib. Harry couldn't believe that his baby brother was already six months old. He couldn't wait for Sammy to be old enough to play with him and Dean.

"Goodnight, Sam," Mary said to her youngest child. She bent over and kissed his forehead.

Dean climbed onto the side of the crib. "Night, Sammy," he said, kissing his brother. He climbed down, and Harry took his place.

"Goodnight, Sammy," Harry told his baby brother. Sam looked up at him with big brown eyes, and Harry smiled at him. His brother was so adorable. He leaned forward and kissed his brother, just as Dean and Mary had done.

"Hi, boys," their father said, appearing in the doorway.

"Daddy!" the two boys shouted. They abandoned the crib and ran to their father.

"So, what do you two think? Is Sammy ready to throw around a football?" John teased.

"No Daddy," they giggled.

John laughed with them and ruffled their hair. He scooped up Dean, and Mary picked up Harry. The parents carried the two boys to the room they shared. Some children hated sharing a room with their siblings, but Dean and Harry loved sharing a room. They had an awesome bunk bed, and Harry would often climb onto the top bunk with Dean, and they would stay up late whispering together. Plus, whenever one of them had a bad dream, they could seek comfort from the other.

They were soon sound asleep. Harry's dreams were nothing exciting, just the usual random dreams that people had. However, his sleep was interrupted by shouting and the smell of smoke. His green eyes shot open, and he scrambled out of bed. Dean was also awake, and climbing down the ladder. As soon as his feet hit the floor, the two boys ran out of their room. They saw their father coming out of Sam's room with the baby in his arms. The room appeared to be on fire.

"Dean, take your brothers and get outside!" John yelled, putting Sam into Dean's arms. Dean nodded and quickly started running off. Harry stood frozen in place for a moment, his emerald eyes wide with shock and fear. "Go, Harry!" his father's command got him to move. He ran after Dean, and followed him outside.

Once they were safely outside, Harry looked up at the house. He could see the fire raging inside, and he hoped his parents were okay.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean was reassuring their baby brother.

Just then, John came running out of the house. He grabbed the two boys, with Dean still holding onto Sam, and ran away from the house. Harry heard the sound of breaking glass, and saw the fire come shooting out of the broken window. The flames engulfed the house, and it was then that Harry realized that Mary must be dead. His perfect life had been shattered.

**1985**

"Don't worry, Harry, first grade is easy," a six year old Dean was assuring a five year old Harry. "Don't bother getting used to people, though. We probably won't be here long."

Harry was getting used to constantly moving. He and Dean both knew why they never stayed in one place, but little Sammy didn't. John wanted at least one son to still be innocent, so he told them to make sure Sam didn't find out that monsters were real. It scared Harry knowing that they were, but he at least knew that their dad would keep them safe. He hunted the monsters and killed them, so innocent people like their mom wouldn't die.

He missed her a lot. He had only known her for a few months, but those months had been the best of his life. She had loved him as much as her actual sons and he felt that her love had made up for the years he had spent without any love. He didn't know his birth mother, so Mary was the only mom he ever knew. He mourned her loss, and he was determined to someday help John find and kill the creature that had killed her.

"I know," Harry responded dejectedly. "No point in making friends."

He was going to start first grade today. He was, admittedly, a bit nervous. After all, it was such a big step up from kindergarten. The school days lasted longer, and he would actually have to do work! He remembered seeing Dean come home with homework last year, and he wasn't looking forward to that. Still, if Dean said it would be easy, then Harry would believe him.

"Hey, I didn't say that! You can make friends, but you gotta be prepared to leave them," Dean corrected Harry. Harry just shrugged in response. He didn't really need friends, did he? He had Dean, who was his best friend. There was no point in bothering with other people.

Harry looked away from Dean and stared out of the window of the Impala. John was driving them to the elementary school, and then he was going to drop Sam off at a daycare. After that, Harry assumed he would be working on a case. Harry didn't want to go to school, but at least he could play with Dean during recess.

They pulled into the parking lot of the elementary school, and the boys got out of the car. John took them to Dean's classroom first.

"Alright, Dean, I want you to behave yourself. Remember to watch out for your brother," John told him.

"Yes, Dad," Dean answered. "See you at recess, Harry."

"Bye, Dean," Harry answered. He watched John hug Dean, and then John led Harry to his classroom.

"Be good, Harry. I'm sure you'll do fine," John said. "Have a good day."

"Okay, Dad. Bye," Harry responded. He watched his father leave, and he longed for the days when John used to smile more. He was a different man now, but at least he still loved his sons. He was just stricter with them, that was all.

Harry entered his classroom after a moment of hesitation and looked around. There were desks with nametags on them. He started walking around and looking at the desks. One of them had to have his name on it.

"Hello, dear. What's your name?" a voice behind him said. Harry quickly turned around and looked up at a woman.

"Harry Winchester," the boy answered. Was she his teacher?"

"Your desk is right over there, Harry. I'm Mrs. Smith, your teacher," the woman told him.

"Okay. Thank you, Mrs. Smith," Harry responded politely. He walked over to the desk she had pointed to, and sure enough, it had his name printed on the nametag. He sat down in the seat and wished class would start already. He just wanted to get it over with.

Soon enough it was recess, and Harry ran off to Dean's classroom. His brother was waiting for him. Harry hugged his brother, and Dean allowed it.

"So, how'd it go?" Dean asked him.

"It's boring. Easy, too. You were right," Harry answered his brother. "I wish Sammy was old enough to come here."

"Yeah, me too. Just wait a couple more years, though. Then he'll be here," Dean reminded him.

The boys started walking to the playground. Harry watched carefree children chase each other around with smiling faces and teasing words. He wished for a moment that he and Dean could be like that again. Sure, they still had fun, but knowing what they knew about the harsh realities of life made it hard for them to be carefree like normal kids their age.

The brothers quickly claimed the last two seats on the swing set, and idly started swinging as they talked. Harry was curious to see if Dean knew anything about their dad's current case, but if he did, he wasn't telling. Harry and Dean's conversation was interrupted by the presence of three fifth grade boys.

"Hey, kid, get off the swing. That's my swing," the apparent leader of the group said. Harry stopped swinging and stared up at the boy. He was a lot taller and bigger than Harry, who was small even for a first grader.

"Don't tell my brother what to do," Dean came to Harry's defense. The boys were all bigger than him, too, but Dean didn't seem intimidated.

"I can do what I want. Who's gonna stop me? You? I'm not afraid of some little kid," the boy sneered. He walked forward and shoved Harry off of the swing. He fell backwards and hit his head on the ground. He bit his lip to keep from crying out.

With a cry of anger, Dean launched himself off of his swing, and he punched the older boy in the face. Harry heard a crack, and the boy stumbled backwards, his hands flying towards his nose. Blood was starting to leak out of it, and he seemed to be in shock.

"That's for pushing my brother! Go away, or I'll break all your noses!" Dean shouted. The other boys looked at their friend's broken nose, and then at Dean, whose green eyes were alight with anger.

"Come on, we need to get him to the nurse," one of the boys told the others. They nodded in agreement, and quickly herded their friend away from the furious third grader.

Dean turned to Harry, who was still sprawled on the ground. He went around the swing and pulled the boy to his feet. Harry saw that Dean's knuckles were red from having punched someone.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Dean asked him.

"Yeah, I think so. My head kind of hurts, but I think I'm fine," Harry answered.

"Look, you can't just let other people pick on you. Just 'cause someone's bigger than you, doesn't mean they're better than you. You can still beat them. Don't show any fear, even if you feel scared," Dean told him seriously. Harry nodded, taking his brother's words to heart. He knew this was a lesson he wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon, and he promised himself that he'd never back down from a bully.

**1987**

Harry's eighth birthday was actually a pretty good day. He was lucky, because John wasn't working on a case, so he got to have his father there for his birthday. He got to celebrate it at Uncle Bobby's house! Uncle Bobby even bought a small cake from a local grocery store, so they all got to share it. Harry got a new pair of shoes, which was great, since he and his brothers didn't get new things all that often. He got books from Uncle Bobby, and Dean had somehow gotten him a black leather bracelet. He decided not to ask where Dean got it from. Little Sammy drew him a picture.

Harry was confused when John told him they were going somewhere. Dean and Sam stayed at the house with Bobby, which made Harry even more confused. Finally, he asked, "Where are we going?"

"You're going to learn how to shoot," John answered. Harry couldn't help but feel excited. He had been so jealous when Dean had gotten to learn how, especially since Dean had told him how much fun he'd had. Now Harry was going to learn!

John first explained all the safety rules concerning guns, and then he explained how guns worked. He lined up some bottles, and he showed Harry how to shoot. Harry watched his father shoot one of the bottles, and he hoped that he'd be able to do it too.

"Are you ready to try?" John asked.

"Yeah!" Harry said quickly. He wasn't sure if he was actually ready, but he didn't want to show any hesitation.

His emerald eyes widened minutely as John placed the gun in Harry's hands. The object felt so foreign to him, and it was a bit frightening to know that he was holding something that could be used for killing. He was careful with the way he handled the gun. He aimed it at a bottle, and he hoped he wouldn't miss. He could remember Dean's pride at not missing, and he wanted to prove to his father that he was equal to Dean.

So Harry carefully aimed, pulled back the trigger, and fired. He wasn't prepared for the loud sound of the gun firing, or the power behind it. Much to his disappointment, he missed. Still, he wasn't about to give up yet. He listened to his father give suggestions, and he implemented them. After a few minutes, he was able to hit every bottle. He felt proud to be able to successfully hit a target. That meant that he could defend himself if he needed too. Plus, someday, he could be a hunter just like his dad.

**1988**

For some reason, weird things didn't really happen around Harry anymore. He wasn't sure why, although he had an idea that maybe it was due to him not wanting them to happen. After all, he didn't want to have any abilities. He wanted to be a normal person. Strange abilities were associated with evil creatures, after all.

By the time he was nine, Harry had all but forgotten about how weird things used to happen around him. He probably would have continued to not remember for another couple of years, if it weren't for the incident in Wisconsin.

At the time, Harry hadn't thought the case was any different than the other cases his father worked on. He assumed that he and his brothers would never get anywhere near the creature being hunted. After all, John had always kept the monsters away from his boys. So there was no reason for Harry to think this hunt would be any different.

It started out the same as any other hunt. They were in a motel room, as usual, and John was making sure Dean and Harry knew their duties, as usual. Most of it was aimed towards Dean, since he was the oldest, but John still wanted to make sure Harry would also look after Sam. Harry didn't know why John always insisted on going over this. He would always look after Sammy, and he knew Dean would look after both of them. But he still made sure to listen to everything his father said.

Three days later, and John was still gone. That wasn't really unusual. Some hunts took several days. Harry was starting to feel bored, but he knew he couldn't break his father's rules. They were in place for his safety. So he obediently stayed in the room with Sam. That night, as Sam slept, Harry stayed up reading a book. Dean, however, wasn't content with sitting around.

"I'm going outside for a while. I'll be back later," Dean told Harry. Harry frowned at his brother's words.

"Dean, you shouldn't. You know we're supposed to stay here and watch over Sam," Harry reminded the older boy.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. But nothing's gonna happen. I'll be back before you know it," he assured Harry. Harry wasn't convinced, but he knew that he couldn't really stop his brother. Harry shrugged and went back to reading his book. He heard Dean walk out of the room, and heard the sound of the door opening and closing.

After a while, he felt himself starting to get drowsy. He put away his book and turned off the lights. He burrowed under the blankets and shut his eyes. He had just started drifting off when he heard a sound. His green eyes shot open. Was Dean back already?

There was suddenly a bright light in the room, and a figure standing over Sam. Harry's eyes widened in horror as he looked at the creature that his dad was supposed to be hunting. What was that thing doing to Sammy?

"Sam!" Harry yelled. The creature's face snapped upwards to look at Harry. "Leave him alone!"

He could hear the door opening, and he knew Dean was back. Still, could Dean get in the room in time to help Sam? Harry ran to Sam's bed, not knowing what he was really doing. After all, what could he do to help Sam? The creature made a move towards Harry, and Harry freaked out. A pulse of energy shot from his body and sent the creature flying into the wall. Dean came running into the room with a gun, but his hands were shaking.

"Dean, shoot it!" Harry begged. Dean shot Harry a panicked look. Before Dean could do anything, the door opened again, and John came rushing towards them.

"Get out of the way!" John yelled. Dean stepped away from the doorway, and Harry backed away towards the other side of the bedroom. John fired several shots at the creature, and it escaped through the window.

"Sam! Are you okay?" John said as he rushed over to his youngest son.

Sam's eyes opened, and he seemed tired and confused. Harry was thankful that Sam hadn't seen the monster. His brother was still innocent. Once John was assured that Sam was okay, he started tearing into Dean for leaving the room, and also wasn't happy with Harry for letting him. Harry just let it happen, knowing that arguing wouldn't really help the situation. Besides, Sam was safe, so nothing else mattered to Harry.

Still, he did feel bad that the monster, which he discovered was called a shtriga, got away. John had to take them to Pastor Jim's so they could be safe, and by the time he returned, the shtriga was gone. It worried Harry that it was still out there. He didn't like the thought of it hurting more children. However, at this point in time, there was nothing that could be done. Harry knew that Dean had learned a lesson that he wouldn't forget.

As for Harry, he was reminded of the fact that there was something… wrong with him. He knew he had caused the shtriga to be pushed away from Sam. Luckily, nobody had actually seen that happen except for Harry. Still, it frightened him. What was wrong with him? He wasn't a monster, was he? He could only hope that he would someday understand this strange ability he had been cursed with, and he hoped it would never harm anyone.

**1991**

Harry couldn't believe that he was finally done with elementary school. He had completed fifth grade, and next year he would be in middle school, like Dean. It had been weird not being at the same school as Dean. He had grown accustomed to always having his brother around, but then, for a whole school year, they had been separated. It had just been him and Sam in elementary school together.

But now he could finally get to hang out with Dean again. Plus, middle school just seemed so much cooler than elementary school. Elementary school was filled with a bunch of whiny little kids, but middle school was where kids became teenagers. Dean had assured him that being in middle school was way cooler than being in elementary, and Harry figured he was probably right.

In just a couple of months, Harry would be at middle school with his older brother. He would enjoy his summer, but he knew he wouldn't mind too much when school started again. After all, it beat sitting around all day, and middle school sounded interesting. He would have different classes and teachers, instead of being stuck in the same classroom all day. He was sure that it would be great.

Yet, even as Harry was reflecting on his life, at that moment and on the other side of an ocean, preparations were ongoing for a very different future than the one Harry imagined. The professors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were going about their business as usual. One school year had just ended, but they knew the next would begin all too soon. They had no clue just what the next year would bring. Only one man had any idea, and he was about to find out that even he wasn't prepared.

This man was sitting in his office. He was an elderly man, who would seem very unusual to most people, and even among the people of the Wizarding world he was regarded as odd. Still, most people agreed that he was powerful. After all, he had defeated Grindelwald, and not many people could claim to have defeated a Dark Lord.

Albus Dumbledore was already preparing for the next school year. After all, it would be a big year. This year, the Boy-Who-Lived would be attending Hogwarts. Dumbledore was curious to see how the boy would be. Would he be more like James, or like Lily? Perhaps he would be different from both of them. After all, he wasn't too sure how the boy would fare with the Dursleys. He did feel bad about leaving Harry with them, but it was for the boy's own good. The protection would only work if he was with a blood relative. Besides, he was sure Petunia wouldn't take out an old grudge on an innocent child.

He decided to look at the roster of upcoming students. He saw many familiar names. Some were children related to important people in the ministry, and others were the children of old Pureblood families. Some names were unfamiliar, which indicated that they were Muggleborn. Still, there was only one name that he really wanted to see. Harry Potter.

He reached the P's, and he was shocked to see that Harry's name was not on there. How was that possible? His name had gone down on the paper the second he was born. How could his name have just disappeared? His blue eyes glanced down at the bottom of the list, and saw a name that he was sure had not been on there when the list was created: Harry Winchester. He was certain that the only Harry had been young Harry Potter.

One thing was for certain. Albus Dumbledore would be paying Petunia Dursley a visit. After all, there had to be an explanation for this. He was determined to get to the bottom of this. Only he knew the details of Harry's fate, and he needed to make sure the Boy-Who-Lived would attend Hogwarts. The fate of the Wizarding world depended on it.

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait! Life got in the way a lot of times. Anyway, credit for the beta reading goes to TheWritingGirl23! Next chapter, Harry gets his letter, and we will get to see him interact with the Wizarding world. Also, I'm curious, which House do you guys think he should be in? And why? Thanks for reading! And thanks to everybody who reviewed! 3**


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